


I feel like I can't breathe

by wordscorrupt



Series: Prompts [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Asthmatic Peter Parker, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Peter Parker, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Sick Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:15:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22651615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordscorrupt/pseuds/wordscorrupt
Summary: A young Peter suffers an asthma attack in the middle of the night.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Prompts [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1629409
Comments: 8
Kudos: 352





	I feel like I can't breathe

Tony had never been a heavy sleeper of any sort. The slightest creak, squeak or even wind brushing against the windows, amongst others sounds, would drag him from his unconscious state and back to the land of the living.

Therefore, when Friday blared an alarm just before the asscrack of dawn, he was inevitably up in less than two seconds flat, sleep forgotten as he tried to get his bearings straight. He fumbled around for the light switch on the bedside lamp, letting out a groan as he flipped it on and the light assaulted his eyes.

He rubbed at his eyes, letting out a stiff yawn. “Fri, what’s goin’ on?”

“Peter is experiencing a severe asthma attack, sir. I have already informed Doctor Banner and the rest of the medical staff of your imminent arrival.”

If there was any sleep still lagging in Tony’s body, it was completely wiped out and replaced with pure adrenaline instead. Friday hadn’t even finished her sentence before he was running out of the room, racing towards Peter’s room at the end of the hallway.

“Peter!” Tony called out, nearly breaking the hinges off the door in his attempt to reach his son as quickly as possible. He stumbled into the room, flicking the light on and the scene in front of him had him frozen in place.

His eleven-year-old son was sprawled on the floor, grasping a tiny hand to his chest, trying desperately to get a breath in as his chest caved in and out. His other hand was wrapped loosely around his inhaler that had obviously done little to help this situation. His blanket was tangled up near his feet, hinting at the fact that Peter had fallen trying to get out bed, probably in his attempt to get to his dad. Peter’s terrified, tear stricken face turned towards him and Tony felt a piece of his heartbreak off and shatter in that exact moment.

It was that pang in his chest, along with the piercing sounds of his son’s wheezes that got the adrenaline coursing through his veins once more and without another moment of hesitation, Tony made a beeline to his son, falling onto his knees in front of him. Trembling hands reached out, smoothing his son’s hair back, as he cooed, “Hey, baby. Daddy’s here. You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Peter dropped the inhaler, grabbing onto the front of Tony’s shirt with the same desperation that was plastered across his face.

Tony easily scooped his son into his arms, pressing him against his chest, feeling the boy’s small arms wrap around his neck while his legs wrapped around his waist. Once Peter was safely situated in his arms it was a mad dash to the MedBay.

He was so focused on getting to the elevator, he nearly crashed into Bruce who had run up to meet them. The two didn’t exchange any words, just a shared frantic look before heading towards the elevator.

“His inhaler?” Bruce questioned as the doors closed behind them. He pressed two fingers to Peter’s wrist.

“No help.”

“Feel li’e -” _Wheeze._ “C’nt -” _Wheeze._ “ - B’eathe, ‘ad.”

“Shh, I know, baby. Don’t talk. Save your breath. Try to take nice deep breaths for me, okay? Follow my breathing, honey.”

That was easier said than done. He started taking deep breaths in an effort to guide his son’s breathing. In the end, it made little difference but inadvertently helped Tony to focus on the situation at hand rather on the devastating scenarios his mind was trying to act out.

The elevator ride down to the medbay was probably the longest minute of Tony’s life. The elevator let out a monotone ding at every floor that was passed and each one might as well have signified another year being taken off his life.

Once they reached their destination, he didn’t even wait for the doors to fully open before he was darting out of the elevator. The medical staff had been standing around, waiting for them and he could only imagine the sight he was offering them. If there was ever a time his guards were completely down it was right now as he stood there barefoot in pajamas with a frantic expression marring his face, a death grip on his son.

Bruce immediately started barking out orders and the staff quickly begin to surround them and more than one pair of arms was reaching to take Peter away from. Tony momentarily tightened his hold on his kid before the rational part of his mind thankfully took over. Peter was plucked out from his arms and the boy was desperately reaching out for his father as he was settled down on the gurney, oxygen mask immediately covering his nose and mouth. The front of the bed was moved up and Peter was propped up against it as staff cut away his shirt with a pair of scissors, making way for heart monitors to be strapped to his chest.

Tony pushed his way to Peter’s side. “I’m right here, sweetheart,” He reassured, grabbing hold of Peter’s closest hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

The next hour for Tony was all too reminiscent of the previous asthma attacks Peter had suffered through. At first, Bruce ordered for a nebulizer treatment was set up through the mask and in the meanwhile, two nurses were tasked with starting an IV in order to give him a stronger medication. 

“D’ddy!” Peter sobbed, writhing around on the gurney in a futile attempt to escape the needle the nurses were digging around in his arm. This was the third attempt. 

Tony was beside himself as he peppered kisses onto Peter’s forehead, cooing, “Shh, daddy’s here, baby. Daddy’s here. It’s almost over, I promise.” He adjusted the mask on Peter’s face, pressing down on it gently. “Just breathe, honey. It’ll all be over soon.”

“This one blew too.” Tony heard the nurse state to their partner and he gritted his teeth in anger but he refused to lash out for Peter’s sake. He knew the medical staff always had a notoriously hard time trying to insert an IV in his son.

“Last time we set one up in his foot, didn’t we?” Bruce questioned and Tony nodded his head in agreement. Betrayal settled in his chest because he knew it was going to be even more painful for his son.

Ten agonizing minutes later, Tony lets out a breath of relief as the IV was finally set up in Peter’s right foot and medication was being pushed through. The effects are almost instant as Peter’s airways are forced open. Tony’s heart nearly bursts out of his chest as he watches his son take several untroubled deep breaths. Peter turns to look at him with wide eyes, as if not quite believing the fact he could once again conduct the simple act of breathing.

“That’s right, kiddo, you’re okay, now,” Tony encourages and at this point he’s lost count of how many times he’s told his son those exact words tonight. He buries his face into Peter’s curls, basks in the smell of the strawberry shampoo before standing back up. “You can rest now. Let the medicine do its job.”

His dad’s words are like magic as the tension evaporates from Peter’s body and he seems to almost melt into the bed. His eyes flutter to a close and Tony busies himself in brushing away the stray tears on Peter’s cheeks, willing to keep his own from falling. He smooths back the hair that was plastered to Peter’s forehead from sweat and presses his lips to the cold skin, letting them linger for a few seconds. He tucks Peter in, being mindful of the IV and wires monitoring his vitals, before finally taking a seat.

Bruce lingers for a few minutes, tracking Peter’s breathing before finally concluding that he was stable. He leaves, with the promise to be back soon.

Exhaustion starts to weigh heavily on him as he tries to settle in a little more comfortably in the chair once Bruce leaves. He rests his chin in his hand, watching his son’s chest rise up and down. Eventually, he drifts off, starting to wake up an hour later by several familiar voices.

One of them realizes he’s stirring and settles a soft hand on his shoulder to steady him. He doesn’t need to open his eyes to know who it is. “Hey, Pep,” He calls out, voice groggy. The woman gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

She waits for Tony to open his eyes and tells him, “Friday told me what was going on as soon as I came into the office. I’m sorry, I should have been here with you.”

“It’s fine.” Tony maneuvers himself back up to a sitting position, having slid down in the chair sometime while sleeping. Pepper backs away and moves off to the side, giving Tony a view of Bruce and Steve who were surrounding Peter’s bed. Steve was dutifully running his fingers through Peter’s curls while Bruce was taking a thorough listen to Peter’s chest with his stethoscope. The second Steve realizes that Tony’s awake he pulls back, allowing him to come up to Peter’s side instead.

“How is he?” Tony asks as he took Steve’s place, laying a soothing hand on Peter’s forehead, thankful his son was still asleep.

Bruce moves the metal end from one side of Peter’s chest to the other, explaining, “His lungs are sounding much better. Vitals are stable. Pulse ox is back to normal as well.” He finishes up, tucking the blanket back around Peter. “I talked to his asthma specialist a few minutes ago. He’s going to be prescribing him some new medications to hopefully prevent anything like this happening again.”

Tony nods his head as he reaches out to smooth the blanket across Peter’s chest, leaving his hand settled on top.

“He’s gonna be okay, Tony. In fact, you can take him back upstairs right now. “ Bruce saw the hesitation on his friend’s face. “I’ll be with you guys all day, monitoring him. Heck, the whole team will probably be hovering around. Let the little guy rest in the comfort of his own bed.” 

Tony finally agreed and Bruce moved to remove the IV and the monitoring equipment. Steve argued to Tony to let him carry Peter back upstairs and Tony watched with a careful eye as the super soldier gingerly picked his son up. He managed to get Peter settled in his arms without disturbing a single hair on the kid’s head. Steve gave him a proud grin which Tony fondly rolled his eyes at.

“That’s precious cargo in your arms, Cap.” Tony reminded him as they all started walking towards the elevator.

“I know.”

This elevator ride was a striking contrast to the one he had taken just a few hours before. Instead of painful wheezes emitting from his son, it was soft snores and Tony had never been more grateful.

Once they reached the penthouse, Tony led the way to his bedroom with Steve and Bruce the following suit while Pepper opted to go to the kitchen instead, most likely to start on breakfast. Once Peter was situated in bed, Bruce and Steve excused themselves, knowing that Tony was most likely going to curl up next to his son and sleep.

Tony shut the door behind them, moments later crawling into bed next to his son. He wrapped his arms around the kid, Peter immediately curling up against him. Tony smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of Peter’s head before closing his eyes, letting the sound of Peter’s gentle breathing lull him to sleep.


End file.
